Memory lost and found
by To-my-dismay
Summary: Dean's Memory: Half gone Castiel: Half-gone Unknown girl's unconscious body: Found by Dean winchester


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perhaps.

Strolling through the forest, as the sun had just set, a man paced through a thick bramble. This was handsome, that was definitely the most noticeable thing about him, and he stood very near an old yet beautiful car. It was his. As the man half-heartedly stomped through trees and crushed the autumn leaves, he came upon a heart-jolting sight. There, a few metres away from him, lay what seemed to be a body. The light was dim, and he couldn't tell anything about the person lying there, if it was a person. As he carefully approached, his eyes widened when he noticed the distinctive figure of a human, a barely breathing human. He walked toward the laying body, overcome with concern. His fatherly instinct, more to say. He stopped short of the body, it was a woman- he could now see. And she was breathtaking. SHIT. He had almost stepped on the girl's arm. Bending down, he pulled a lock of red hair from her perfect face and examined the comatose woman. She was pale- unnervingly so; but her skin was flawless and smooth like fine china, her features were so eloquently sculpted on her face, as if she were a statue. There was something extraordinary and- magical about this girl. Not just her beauty. As he looked at her, he took in her long ginger hair, and her messy clothes. What a tormented soul she looked like. Prudently, he held her in his arms and cradled her head. He slightly shook his own as a tear streamed down his cheek. No one else would be dying. He just wouldn't allow it. After his younger brother had been murdered...- he refused to even think about it. Shaking his head, he carried the girl to his car, and heaved her into the back seat, laying her down carefully. It took him hours, and averted him from his original plan, but he drove her back to the motel where he was currently staying. He unloaded her onto a bed (he had two, it was a petty attempt at trying to remember his brother) and cleaned her with a sponge.

Having found the unconscious woman- the girl- he was bent on trying to save her. There was something about her that was vaguely familiar. Of course, a lot of his memories had been irreversibly wiped from his brain. He thought that this girl could help him regain them in some way.

In three weeks of tending to her body, he saw that it was all to no avail. The girl was barely breathing. He almost despaired. He thought she was dying. She hadn't moved at all- not even returned to consciousness. The girl was as pale as ever. But one day, as he sat drinking from his silver flask, thinking about his deceased brother, he heard a muffled mutter. Throwing the flask away hastily, he rushed to her side. She was finally awake.

Since then, he took care of her like a mother nurses her baby. He would spoon feed her, because her movement was impeded. He would talk to her, even though she had very little memory. In a week, she could move enough to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom on her own. AfterBut after the first week of consciousness,of her consciousness, the girl's pain was starting to sink in.in. Her infected wounds were burning her skin, and all her overworked bones were creaking and groaning in the girl's body. Out of frustrationof sheer frustration she would cry-cry out-out in agony-agony, in the middle of the night- heand he couldn'tcouldn't possibly take anytake ither pain any more.more. It was starting to hurt him, and he didn't understand why. SoHe would escape the motel when he thought the girl was asleep. But she would always wake.wake. The first weeks she would cry. So upset and caught up in her loneliness, she felt like she was becoming a bother to him- the man that saved her in the first place.place. She didn't want to be anybody's burden, and so consumed in insecurities, she would constantly attempt to leave the motel room.room. Oh, but the pain would seize her. The girl fell to the floor in excruciating spasms every night. And every night the motel manager would find her in the hall, lyinglying, almost as if dead on thethe carpeted floor. So shewhenwhen atthat night he left,left her,herher injured body unprotected, she .waited,waited; patientlypatiently.patiently. She didn't leave the room this time. Didn't even try to get up. And so she waited. But no one knows for what.what. SheOddly enough she found that she wasn't waiting for him.him. Somebody else, perhaps.perhaps. One of those nights, a piercing high pitched noise intruded into the motel room, crashing the windows and exploding the toaster, but the girl remained unmoved. She looked up as the noise started to take form, and died down as a strikingly handsome man appeared before her eyes. The girl quickly glanced at the clock on the wall, and smirked when she noticed the time. 5:00 am, the time HE returned from his 'midnight strolls'. The handsome man's attention was caught by a fumbling noise at the door, a very frustrated groan, and then a hard kick as the door of the room fell down. He couldn't find his keys. So he smashed the door down. His worry clouded his judgement. Though his expression drastically changed once he laid eyes on the handsome man. A man in a trenchcoat. "Cas?" he whispered, not believing his eyes as he welled up. "Hello Dean," the handsome man replied in a deep grumbling voice. His stare never left Dean's face as he lifted his hand and pointed a finger at the flabberghasted girl. "I'm here to take Anna."


End file.
